


thresholds

by theycallmeDernhelm (onyourleft084)



Series: and after all this time/i’m still into you [29]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Kisses, Crowley gets a wahoo, Empathy Powers, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Gay Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Smut, Switching, The Fuck Couch, but it’s tender smut, crowley has a lot of feelings, ok they both have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24925135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyourleft084/pseuds/theycallmeDernhelm
Summary: With a single confession, Crowley and Aziraphale go from zero to everything.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: and after all this time/i’m still into you [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515578
Comments: 16
Kudos: 187





	thresholds

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the classic ‘post-Armageddon/love confession/first kiss/first time’ structure that we all can’t stop rereading (and rewriting) in this fandom. Lovingly beta’d by [ GayDemonicDisaster, ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster) who proved that Britpicking is necessary for even a fic that’s mostly dialogue and sex.

So it had been quite clear that Heaven and Hell would leave both of them alone for the time being, and so far they had. At least, it was nearly two months since the trial and Crowley hadn’t run into any of his unsavoury ex-coworkers. Aziraphale hadn’t mentioned anything either, nor was he in the now-familiar state of unease that Crowley recognised as a result of a visit from archangels. Still, though. You couldn’t be too careful with either side. Shifty buggers. 

At first Aziraphale and Crowley agreed to stick close, in case anything happened. Look out for each other, as it were. The weeks went by and there didn’t seem to be anything to worry about. But even so, Crowley felt better driving up to the bookshop (despite the short, walkable distance between their places) and poking his head in to check up on Aziraphale.

Crowley loved his angel. He’d come to terms with the fact several hundred years ago. It was a truth he’d held close to his heart all this time, because there was no knowing what Hell would do if they found out, and there was no telling how Aziraphale would react if he was told...and Crowley wasn’t sure what was worse, being punished for loving somebody when demons weren’t supposed to love, or being rejected by the only person that really mattered to him. He’d long decided to keep this one concealed. It wouldn’t kill him if Aziraphale didn’t know.

This afternoon, the angel was rearranging some things by the biggest shop window. He looked up when Crowley came in. The smile he gave him instantly made Crowley’s heart skip.

“Crowley, my dear.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all. Just surprised. You didn’t call ahead, I didn’t expect...”

“Mm,” was all Crowley said apologetically.

“I don’t mind, of course,” beamed Aziraphale. “You’re always welcome.”

“I just thought I should swing by,” Crowley said. He put his hands in his pockets. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. No sign of my lot, if that’s what you’re asking.” He looked up searchingly. “And you? Run into any of yours?”

Crowley shook his head. “‘M good. So what’s all this, then?”

Aziraphale sighed, “I’m trying to change things up a little. It would be nice to turn this into a proper reading area...not just for me, but for customers.” Seeing Crowley’s puzzled look, he continued. “Having a nice place here for them to read means they can do so without taking the books home with them. It’s a bit of a compromise. But obviously I want it to look more inviting, so I’m moving a sofa here...armchair there...another armchair over here...”

He did not catch the fond, loving, utterly besotted look Crowley was giving him. It was all gone by the time Aziraphale looked up. “How does it look? So far, I mean.”

“Hey, as long as you didn’t move anything out of the back room where we drink a lot, it’s fine.”

Aziraphale beamed, and with little effort dragged the second armchair into place. Crowley nearly asked if he needed help, but remembered that the angel was a lot stronger than he was. Entirely capable of moving furniture by himself. Capable of looking after himself, certainly, if anything were to try to harm him.

“It looks great,” he said.

“Thank you. I still have a great deal of tidying on the second floor to do,” Aziraphale added, a little anxiously.

Crowley nearly blurted out “I can help!” but remembered that Aziraphale, when he decided to be tidy and neat for once, had a very specific way of organising his belongings. Crowley could never get his mind around it, and he certainly wasn’t about to risk messing it up. “In that case I’ll leave you to it,” he said abruptly.

“Have you got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, lying. “I just. Thought I’d pop in. And make sure everything was—“

“Tickety-boo,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley grinned. “Tickety-boo. Sure.” He turned, arms swinging. “Let me know if anything happens.”

“Anything good or anything bad?”

Crowley shrugged. “Anything, really.”

“I suppose I shall phone you, then,” said Aziraphale, and he sounded a little resigned. Or maybe it was Crowley’s imagination.

And no, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay, for as long as Aziraphale would let him. Even if nothing was going to hurt them. Even if he wasn’t really needed around.

Aziraphale got the door for him, and then, at the threshold, stopped and straightened, looking off in a vague direction like a hunting dog catching a scent.

“Everything okay?” Crowley questioned.

“Y-yes,” Aziraphale said, sounding rather spacey. “It was just...well, I felt quite a sudden, strong rush of love.”

Crowley froze.

“Must be coming in from the street,” Aziraphale said, squinting out at the zebra crossing just outside the corner where the shop was situated. “So odd and unexpected. Perhaps a sign that I’ve been cooped up in here too long.” He chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” Crowley said. “That’s nice. Well, see you,” and he made the last reluctant couple of steps across the threshold.

“Crowley—“

He paused. Aziraphale lingered in the doorway, wringing his hands.

“Do let me know,” he said, “if you need anything. Anything at all. No matter how silly you think it seems. I’m here,” he added.

Crowley blinked. “Of course.”

Aziraphale just nodded, and the door shut. And then Crowley was on the sidewalk alone.

_I felt quite a sudden, strong rush of love..._

He could feel it. Aziraphale could bloody feel it. Crowley felt a surge of raw emotion rise in his chest, felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. It was time to stop pretending.

Before he knew it he was turning on his heel again, and yanking the door open- the lock unfastened itself, trusting him with access- he stepped back into the shop and Aziraphale was still standing there, surprise etched across his face.

“Crowley? What is it?”

In that moment, Crowley gave in— the cracks in his tough exterior finally breaking all the way. Aziraphale watched his shoulders drop suddenly as he sucked in an almost painful breath. “Aziraphale?”

A part of him felt foolish for being so dramatic. The rest of him only felt as if this was exactly where he was supposed to end up all along, one way or another. But Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind. Alarmed, he bustled forward until he was standing front of Crowley. “What’s wrong?” Gentle hazel eyes met Crowley’s yellow ones with a look that seemed both searching and knowing at the same time.

“It’s me,” Crowley blurted out.

“What?”

“The love you feel. It’s me. I’m the one who— don’t you get it, Angel?” he said, his voice breaking. “Always have been. I shouldn’t ever have- I wasn’t supposed to- but I did.”

“Did what?” Aziraphale coaxed.

“...fall,” said Crowley hoarsely. “In love. With you.”

It was hard to read Aziraphale’s face then, and something twisted terribly in Crowley’s gut. He hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing, wasn’t going too fast with this confession; but if he didn’t, then his heart would still keep on beating after the angel, beating itself to death. It was beating now, weary, crazed, desperate— now or never. Now or never. Now or never.

And then Aziraphale said, “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes. Said that, didn’t I?”

“This. What I felt before...” Aziraphale took a deep breath, “what I’m feeling now...this is all you?”

“One hundred percent.”

“And so you were going to just— just bottle it all up until it destroyed you from the inside?”

“Yes. No?” said Crowley helplessly. “I dunno.”

Something like hurt, like longing, flashed in Aziraphale’s eyes. “But why would you- oh, my dear boy,” he whispered, “this is my fault, isn’t it? I’m sor—“

“Angel.” He couldn’t help himself, his traitorous heart, his traitorous hands reaching out to Aziraphale and cupping his face, “Don’t say it. You have nothing to apologise for. This is on me.”

“It’s on me, too!” Crowley had never heard anyone sound so insistent to bear the blame for something. “I never gave you the chance. Always slowing you down, always pushing you away...” Oh, shit, now Aziraphale was crying. If Crowley thought he had a hope of getting through this with his sanity intact, that hope was all gone now. “Because I- I- love you too— I have for years and years, almost since the beginning—“

Wait, wait, wait one holy second.

Crowley’s brain stopped processing every word after I love you too, the rest disintegrating into radio static between his ears as Aziraphale babbled.

“Shut up,” he finally managed to croak, but not unkindly. “You don’t love me— you can’t—”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” said Aziraphale, managing to sound reproachful through his tears.“I was afraid that if I— I said something, it would scare you too, and you’d, I don’t know, scamper off and leave me, or call me a fool...and I couldn’t lose you. I just couldn’t.” He started rambling. “Then we stopped Armageddon, well, Adam stopped Armageddon, and I thought, right, this is it, things will change, but I- I was still scared...” Aziraphale sighed. “And agreeing to look out for each other was a compromise. At least there’d be a reason for you to stay close.”

Tears sprang to Crowley’s eyes. Great, now him, too. “Angel, if I’d known—“

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” Aziraphale almost wailed. “You almost didn’t, now. You never think of yourself as loveable, Crowley. But you are wrong,” insisted the angel through his tears. “I was scared that if I loved you, if I showed it, if I- I even considered the fact that the love I was feeling was coming from y-you, it would be too much for you, and you’d leave.”

“I would never,” whispered Crowley. Any more of this crying business and they’d be wetter than orphans in a storm. “You know I was wrong about Alpha Centauri. I’d never leave you alone.”

Aziraphale chuckled, one soft thumb brushing against the sharpness of Crowley’s cheekbone. “Oh, darling, that wasn’t the only thing I was afraid of.” He caught Crowley’s puzzled look. “If I was alone, that meant you would be, too. And I couldn’t stand the thought of that. You’re not exactly the kindest person to yourself.”

Crowley sobered. Aziraphale was right. Here he was, ready to let himself be destroyed, be consumed by his own feelings before they had a hope of release. When all that they needed, all this time, was a little courage, a little patience, a little faith...

“Aziraphale,” he said. “All you had to do was tell me. Say that I was worth it, that you wanted me— and I would have flipped off all the Dukes of Hell and Archangels of Heaven to be with you.”

“There’s no need for that now,” the angel managed to chuckle. “But I’ll say it anyway. You, my darling, my love, are worth it, and I will always want you.”

“I— “ A shiver ran up Crowley’s spine. He pressed closer, despite himself. Aziraphale’s arms came up to hold him tight.

“Let me be the one to ask for forgiveness, this time. For all the things I said that I didn’t mean. And all the things I told you when I was scared, or mad at you.” His hands rubbed comfortingly down Crowley’s back, warm tears rolling down his cheeks and onto Crowley’s shoulders.

“There’s nothing to forgive. How many times do I have to tell you?” Crowley smiled helplessly. “You could never do the wrong thing.”

“I made you think I would never want you.” Aziraphale’s big, wet hazel eyes looked up at Crowley. “And I feel wrong to only tell you now that we both know we’re safe. It’s— it’s cowardly.”

“Shut up,” said Crowley, and for good measure he pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s. It seemed, in that moment, the only thing he could do, and when Aziraphale kissed him back, he knew it was the right thing. It felt right to have that softness press against him, the gentle slide of a tongue inside his own mouth. The strength of Aziraphale’s arms pulling him close until Crowley was certain they’d switch bodies again, one blending into the other before flickering out the other side again. And Aziraphale still clung to him, even when they broke the kiss. He mumbled something against the hollow of Crowley’s throat.

“What?”

“I said, I’m never leaving your side,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley chuckled. “Thank Someone for that.”

“I mean it.” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the tattoo on the side of Crowley’s face.

“So do I.”

“You’re all I have now, you know, love?” murmured Aziraphale. He squeezed Crowley’s hand, nestled into his chest like he fit there perfectly. “And you’re all I will ever need. I’m sorry it took so long to be sure of that.”

Crowley, for once, had nothing to say. He’d lost the words; they were probably swirling around the bookshop, parading invisibly about. And he was smiling too much, anyway. It was enough to hold Aziraphale close and know, in his heart, that nothing would come between them.

Soon enough Aziraphale was on him again, his lips warm against Crowley’s. It was like an ache inside of him was finally soothing, a cavity in his soul finally being filled. “Crowley. Crowley, darling.”

“Yes?”

“Please—“ his angel’s voice was trembling. There was no need to prompt him for what he was asking for. Crowley tilted his head, deepening the kiss at Aziraphale’s unspoken request. He curled the fingers of one hand into Aziraphale’s pale hair.

“Anything,” Crowley managed to sigh against his neck. “Waited long enough, have we?”

“Too long,” whimpered Aziraphale.

“I’m here now. You won’t scare me away with this much love.” He looked into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Here?”

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the window shutters slammed, one by one, blocking the view within from the street. “Here.”

Crowley let the angel slide him onto the couch, the kisses coming hard and hungry now. A distant clatter told him that his sunglasses had fallen off and bounced somewhere across the bookshop floor, but he’d find them later. He rolled over onto his back, wrapped long and clumsy legs round Aziraphale’s middle to pull him closer, felt Aziraphale’s hands pushing, quite despite themselves, at the hem of his shirt— now what would be better, for the angel to help him slide it off or to get rid of it with the snap of his fingers? Crowley found he could hardly spare the concentration to manage the miracle, but it didn’t matter. Aziraphale got the top off him eventually. His hands ran the length of Crowley’s exposed torso, curious, adoring.

“My dear, won’t you be too cold?”

“Don’t care, so long as you put your hands on me.” Crowley tossed the shirt over the backrest of the couch and reached up for him. “You’re gorgeous, you know?” He said, almost matter-of-factly as slender fingers went hastily undoing Aziraphale’s bow tie and buttons, “Anybody tell you that, Angel?” 

Aziraphale blushed. This was all so much— so much, and all coming from Crowley, how on Earth was he supposed to handle all of it? Who could have known that a demon was so capable of so much love? “Hush,” he said, catching Crowley’s lips again with his own.

“Gorgeous,” Crowley said, muffled, and then, “Ngk!” as Aziraphale lovingly dragged kisses across his jawline and down the side of his neck.

“Oh,” whispered Aziraphale, admiring Crowley’s bare skin. He grinned, “Did you know, humans call freckles ‘angel kisses’?”

Crowley reached up to cover his face, almost embarrassed at how corny it was. “You’re joking.”

“No, they really do!”

“Well, who made that up?”

“Some silly human, a long time ago,” said Aziraphale, as Crowley removed his waistcoat and shirt. His breath hitched at the gentle brush of the demon’s cool fingertips against the hairs of his chest. Those slender hands sent a rush through Aziraphale’s system that he’d never felt before. Crowley could see it, could feel the waves rolling out from him just as he knew Aziraphale was feeling his love. He felt it in the press of Aziraphale’s fingertips against his hips, his ribs. The barely-restrained need that almost seemed to burst out from under his fair skin.

“I know,” Crowley whispered, pushing down on the small of Aziraphale’s back so their crotches were pressed flush against each other. “I can feel it, Angel. Feel your desire right here. You can give me so much. You’ve waited so long...“

“I don’t want to hurt you,” whimpered Aziraphale.

“Don’t care if you do. I can feel it more if it hurts. ‘S a demon thing,” he admitted, when Aziraphale gave him a concerned look. “Can’t wait any longer. I want it fast and r-rough. Please, Angel.”

Something about Crowley begging this from him lit a searing heat in the pit of Aziraphale’s belly. Was this what a flame felt like? Burning so brightly with joy and passion that there was nothing left but to consume whatever was closest? He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s chest in answer and did away with their trousers with a snap of his fingers. Crowley heard the leather thwap of his belt falling to the floor. He felt strong hands on his thighs easing them up, letting him sling his legs over Aziraphale’s shoulders. Now Aziraphale was pressing close to him, soft and hard all at once, and Crowley shuddered, back arching, welcoming him in; first his gentle fingers, prying, exploring, suddenly slick with a subconscious miracle (Aziraphale didn’t really think about it too hard, all he wanted was for this to be easy on his demon) and then he whispered hesitantly in Crowley’s ear, “Ready for me, darling?” and Crowley nodded desperately, and Aziraphale, hard and aching, obliged.

“ _Ngh_ ,” gasped Crowley, throwing his head back. “Faster. Show me how much you want me.”

“I will, love. I’ll make it so that you never doubt again,” said Aziraphale, voice shaking as he thrust into Crowley with increasing speed. He went on encouraged by the soft cries he wrenched from the demon’s throat and the jerk of his hips. One pale, slender hand came up to wrap itself around the back of Aziraphale’s neck, fingers twining in his hair. Aziraphale buried his face in the crook of Crowley’s shoulder, still half-embarrassed at his own desire and the force with which he was taking Crowley. He almost didn’t recognise himself, nor the rough, almost selfish intensity that was building inside of him. And then Crowley cried out, and he came— well, they both came, although Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure who did it first, and any thoughts he might have still had went spiraling into darkness, instead replaced by flashes of pure bliss and pleasure going off behind his closed eyelids.

Crowley writhed underneath him, his hips still jerking with the aftershocks. Their lovemaking had been almost violent for the first time, and he could distinctly hear the couch springs squeaking beneath them. The sound Aziraphale made was almost apologetic.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? You said I wouldn’t, but I was scared, I forget how strong I am, oh, darling you’ve bruised— I’m sorry, I can- I can heal—“

His anxious babble was cut short by Crowley’s open mouth on his. “Shh. Talk too much, Angel.” Crowley grinned, yellow-eyed and love-drunk. “You didn’t hurt me. Look. ‘M fine.”

“Bruises,” whimpered Aziraphale, not meeting his eyes. They were rising along the side of Crowley’s body, everywhere Aziraphale had held him down.

Crowley surveyed them with indifference. “Angel kisses. Angel bruises. Not something to get rid of. This, however—“ he flicked his wrist and they mess they’d made of each other vanished. They were, again, clean and dry.

Aziraphale lowered himself into Crowley’s warm skin, making sure to plant kisses on his collarbone. _Thou shalt not covet,_ he remembered, and ignored the thought zealously, to go on caressing Crowley’s lithe body in the most covetous way possible. He noticed Crowley’s eyes had gone full yellow from corner to corner. Crowley slid out gently from underneath him, let Aziraphale lie on his belly in the space of couch that couldn’t accommodate both of them, and kissed his back and shoulders as he settled in comfortably.

“May I, now?” he purred, running a hand down Aziraphale’s spine and coming to rest on his bottom.

“Are you quite ready?”

“Don’t need to wait as long as humans do,” said Crowley with a shrug. “I want to try that again. But inside of you, this time.”

“Please,” agreed Aziraphale.

“How do you want it?”

Perhaps it was a miracle, but Crowley seemed to weigh nothing at all, as he straddled Aziraphale from behind and went about gently loosening him up, taking Aziraphale’s cues from earlier. Aziraphale sighed at the contact, slick and hot. “Slowly. Slowly, love. I want to feel everything.”

“Mm-hmm?” Crowley acknowledged.

“I want you to show me how good you are. Slowly...yes,” he sighed again, as Crowley slid inside of him. The demon groaned, pressed his chest against Aziraphale’s shoulder blades, nuzzled the angel’s shoulder as if half-asleep. He rocked his hips, built up a pace. Slowly, Aziraphale had asked, and at first Crowley was scared he couldn’t because that wasn’t what he did, he went fast and he ruined things in his eagerness to have them...but here, he realised, was something that would never go away. Never leave him. This wonderfully soft angel falling apart underneath his hands. Inviting him to take his time, take his fill, giving himself up to one as unworthy as he.

“It’s all right,” Aziraphale coaxed. “I know you’ve wanted this for so long. We have all the time in the world.”

He felt Crowley’s lips press hot and reverent to the back of his neck. His thrusts went deep and gentle, making Aziraphale whimper and moan. And he was so patient, learning every curve and soft dip of Aziraphale’s body, turning the act into one of worship fit for such a divine being. Mine, he thought, relishing the strength, the warmth of Aziraphale’s form against his. Mine, at last.

Finally spilling inside of him, filling the angel up from within, should have made Crowley guilty for leaving his traces on something so pure. It almost did. But he felt Aziraphale reach for him spent and heaving, and fold him in those soft arms again, and press a kiss to his temple and whisper, “So good, my love,” and the word ‘guilt’ lost its meaning entirely.

They lay nestled against each other, hearts beating in unison. Crowley’s head rested on his shoulder, an arm draped across the angel’s midriff. “Sorry.”

Aziraphale turned to look at him. “Whatever for?”

“Mmh.” Crowley buried his nose into his collarbone. “Too fast again. Just told I loved you and then before you know it...”

“Nonsense,” sighed Aziraphale, stroking Crowley’s back soothingly. “It felt like such a right time to do it. We’ve both waited so long.”

“Yeah.”

“I meant what I said. You are worth all my love,” Aziraphale whispered, like a benediction. “I hope this proves it. I can prove it to you again and again.”

“I’d like that,” Crowley murmured. “I really would.”

“It’s just the two of us now, darling. No more Hell. No more Heaven.”

“Stuck with each other, I’m afraid. Promise you won’t get tired of me?”

“With a kiss like yours? Never.”

“Fair enough. They don’t call me the original tempter for nothing.” He fixed Aziraphale in the gaze of his golden eyes. Aziraphale watched the edges crinkle mischievously, the thin paper-creases on his face appear in that way he had come to so adore as Crowley smiled at him.

“What?” said Aziraphale, inviting him to speak whatever terrible thing was on his mind.

“Can I hear a wahoo?”

Aziraphale laughed, and indulged him - not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“Wahoo.”   
  



End file.
